


The Prince of My Heart

by notdeadjustdying



Series: Homestuck x Reader [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notdeadjustdying/pseuds/notdeadjustdying
Summary: A series of Dirk Strider x Reader oneshots





	The Prince of My Heart

You slid into the familiar seat of the worn booth, the red pleather crackling with age beneath your weight. You didn’t even need to pick up the menu. You already knew what you wanted, and so did the waitress, who just smiled and asked you, “The usual?” when she saw your face. You nodded, and she jotted something down in her little notebook before walking off.

You pulled your book out of your bag, and let yourself be absorbed, the white noise of the cafe lulling you gently into it’s pages.

The waitress came back a minute later, carrying a plate with two slices of french toast heavily laden with (favorite topping), and a glass of  (favorite drink).

“Thank you!” you said to her. She nodded in response.

“Just let me know if you need anything else.”

You slipped back into your novel. Or rather, tried to. Someone in the booth across the restaurant from you was having an obnoxiously loud conversation.

“Look, Dave, I don’t really care right now!” He shouted. You looked at him in annoyance.

Had he not been interrupting your me time, he would have been very attractive, if a bit dorky. His physique was on point. You could make out the outline of muscles, from here, and he was tall, too. His blonde hair looked soft, and stuck out behind him, like he had been caught in a strong wind just before entering the cafe. His eyes were obscured by ridiculous sunglasses. Not only was it fairly dark in here to begin with, but they were triangular and sharp, pointing away from his face. All in all, he looked like he came out of one of those animes your friend was always trying to get you to watch.

His phone call was not going well. “Oh my gosh, Dave, don’t get your panties in a bunch! You’ll be fine!” He was exasperated, forehead resting on his free hand, which was clad in a fingerless leather glove.

You continued holding your book, but at the moment you were too interested in what exactly was going on on the other end of that phone call.

“Dude, Cal is  _ not _ out to get you! He’s just a puppet!” He was silent for a while. “What do you  _ mean  _ he’s watching you?”

You picked up your drink, and took a sip, as he continued, “Fine, I’ll come home soon. But don’t expect me to do anything like this again, David Elizabeth Strider!” He shouted the last bit into the phone, holding it directly in front of his mouth, before hanging up.

You couldn’t resist a snort at hearing Dave’s full name. Unfortunately, your cup was still at your lips, and you ended up choking on f/d for a minute.

The boy across the diner looked up. You flushed, embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, even if he was being loud enough to be heard across the street.

You buried your nose in your book and tried to focus. When you looked up again, he was gone. You breathed a sigh of relief, but too soon. He slid into the booth, sitting across from you.

“So, how was eavesdropping?” he asked. “Learn anything new?”

You put your book down on the table. “Other than your friend’s interesting middle name and fear of puppets, no. Also, it's not eavesdropping if you're talking loud enough for the whole diner to hear. F/n by the way.” You held out a hand to shake and he gave you a high five instead.

He smirked at your answer. “You're a pretty cool chick.” He said at length. He handed you a piece of paper. “Give me a call. Or text. Whatever.”

He stood to go.

“I didn't catch your name,” you called after him.

“I didn't give it.” He replied still walking out. “I'm sure you'll figure it out though. You're a smart girl f/n.”

And with that, he was gone. You unfolded the paper to reveal his number, but no name. You refolded it and put it in your bag. You weren't going to contact him until you knew who he was.

You pulled up your phone and searched for David Elizabeth Strider. You smiled to yourself, french toast growing cold. You’d figure out this cool kid yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to suggest any oneshots you want to see!


End file.
